On Our Own
by Godsliltippy
Summary: Sometimes, brothers are all you have. And that can mean the difference between survival and death. Louie learns this the hard way as he and his brothers find themselves alone and miles from home.
1. Chapter 1

A constant, chilled buzz was the first sensation to come back to Louie as his mind began lifting out of the sludge that surrounded it. His limbs felt heavy and slow as he tried to wipe the haze out if his eyes. He blinked, noting the grey of the overcast sky outside the car window. A part of his brain was screaming at him that this was wrong. When had he gotten in a car? The young duck's last memory was of a crowded marketplace, his brothers arguing over where they should go next.

Louie couldn't remember deciding anything after that. The rest was a thick blur that almost matched the trees that sped past the window he was leaning against. He would remember leaving, right? Had something happened?

He must have alerted someone to his waking, a strong hand taking his arm as he again tried to lift it. "Keep still, kid."

Eyes grew wide as Louie found he didn't recognize the voice. The rush of adrenaline gave him the strength to turn away from the window, realizing he was in the passenger seat. Thick arms covered in brown feathers were holding the steering wheel. It was agonizingly slow to turn the rest of the way, but it only solidified the trouble he knew he was in.

A falcon, dressed in a dark suit glanced at him, a frown pulling at his sharp beak. Louie's heart leapt into his throat, choking the cry for help. It was for the best as he realized no one would have heard and he was certain it would only serve to anger his captor.

With ever growing awareness, he began taking in his surroundings, already aware they were in a car he'd never seen before. It was clean, leaving no options for makeshift weapons. He was latched to the seat with nothing more than the seatbelt, his limbs still not listening. Out the windshield lay a two lane road, lined with thick woods that grew shadowed in the early evening light.

Panic was quickly taking over with the fear that he had no idea where he was or why. The only thought that calmed him was the location of his brothers. He couldn't remember how he had gotten into this situation, but he hoped his brothers were safe. Maybe even getting Uncle Donald and Scrooge to help get him back.

"You should go back to sleep." The deep voice drew him back to the falcon.

"Where-" Louie swallowed hard against the rasp, continuing more cautiously. "Where are you taking me?"

"That is none of your concern." It was more of a statement than a warning, like he shouldn't be worried about why he was being abducted. "You and your brothers will be fine if you do as I say."

His heart jumped painfully at the words. "My… where?" The answer was obvious, but his brain was so exhausted. When he realized the bird wasn't going to answer, he decided to try turning to view the back of the vehicle. It was more of a slouch onto the center console, but it served his purpose, giving him a clear view of Huey and Dewey asleep and unbothered by their predicament. "No- no no… why?"

With a gruff sigh, a hand found the little duck's chest, pushing him back into the seat. "I won't warn you again. Go back to sleep."

He couldn't. Louie's brain was awake now, even if his body wasn't and he was fighting the urge to cry as his hand came up to bang against the window. If he could get someone's attention, maybe he could get himself and his brothers out of this.

A grumble of frustration sounded from the driver's side just before something sharp sent a small burn through the young duck's shoulder. It was enough to pull his attention away from the window, eyes falling on the small dart sticking into his skin through the green fabric. The haze began to swirl at the edges of his vision, maring the image of the stoick falcon and Louie couldn't stay awake any longer, letting his head fall forward into the spinning darkness of a chemical induced sleep.

OoOoOoO

Hungry. When Dewey woke, he was greatly aware of the war going on in his midsection. Food was his only goal as he sat up on his bed.

Wait.

The room was wrong, missing the expanse of their room in the mansion. And he wasn't in the middle of a their bunk beds. He was sitting on the edge of a large mattress that lay on a dark, wood floor. Light from a source outside the window was giving the room a soft grey glow and the duck quickly looked around, trying to figure out what was happening.

A lump next to another one on the bed moved, arms stretching out and revealing the red polo and hat. Dewey quickly placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, shaking him gently. "Huey? Wake up!"

"Hmm?" The eldest brother gave an annoyed grumble. "Gimme a second."

"We don't have a second!" The urgency in his voice must have made it through the sleep addled brain as Huey sat up, letting his eyes roam over the room.

"What? Where are we?" For a moment, Dewey expected his brother to lose any semblance of control, but as their eyes met, a sense of focus washed over them. They'd been in similar situations, far from home and the help of their family. They could work through this.

"I don't know, but let's get Louie and find out." A quick nod of agreement and they found the other lump, both tapping their little brother's arms. Nothing. Not even an angry whine. They tried again, practically shaking the young duck until they realized it wasn't going to work. "Is he-"

Huey's fingers were already on their brothers wrist, Dewey holding his breath as he waited. "He's alive."

The middle child released the air in his lungs, grabbing hold of Louie's limp hand, willing him to wake up. "What's wrong with him?"

"If I had to guess…" Huey scrubbed a hand over his face. "I think we've been drugged. I can't remember anything after we decided to go to the arcade."

Testing his memory, Dewey realized his brother was right. What had happened? Did the rest of their family know? Were they looking for them?

If they did know, of course they were looking. Their uncles would never leave them in the hands of a kidnapper. What they needed to do was stay calm and find a way to help in their rescue.

"Okay, we can handle this." Dewey started, sitting back to view the room again. "Check the window. I'll see if I can find anything to work with."

The duo made quick work of the room once Huey had found the window barred shut. There was little to find in the small space and they refocused their efforts on finding out what was behind the door. It was locked, of course, but as they pressed their ears against the wood, they could hear the baritone voice speaking with someone.

"- asleep. You can go ahead with your plans for McDuck. I'll be expecting the next payment in the morning." There was a pause as the other person, most likely on the phone, spoke. "If you want them here indefinitely, the price is going to go up. I'll need back up."

Indefinitely? That didn't sound right. If this was a ransom situation, there was no need to keep them locked up forever. Unless they planned on getting more than just ransom money. If they kept the boys, that could mean their captors would have their Uncle Scrooge at their beck and call. Would the elder duck even go along with that?

The conversation ended with the chime - a phone - and the boys scrambled back towards the bed as heavy footsteps grew louder. A moment later, a lock snapped open and light flooded the room as the door opened. There was no pretending to sleep, even if they'd had a chance to climb back to their spots, the figure looming forward. His face was shadowed as the light spilled in behind him. Dewey wasn't sure if they should be afraid, the plan being ransom, not murder. Right? Was that safe to assume?

A click above activated the ceiling light and their captor was bathed in its glow, Dewey's mouth dropping open as he recognized the falcon in front of him.

Huey seemed to have made the connection, as well. "Hey! You're the guy from Mark Beaks' company! Graves, right?"

The falcon only frowned at this, probably not appreciative of the recognition. "Follow me." The order left no room for argument. He wasn't going to confirm the statement.

"What about our brother?" Dewey asked, feeling slightly emboldened. "What did you do to him?"

Graves regarded the green-clad duck with cold indifference. "He'll be fine once the second dose wears off. Now, I suggest you do as I say or your stay here will be quite unpleasant."

Dewey watched the rise and fall of Louie's chest, clinging to the comfort that his brother was alive. He would be fine. He had to be. He and Huey would figure out what this guy wanted, get a good view of their location and then come back to formulate a plan. That seemed doable. Dewey repeated his plan again and he and Huey followed behind their captor, the two of them casting one last glance to the bed before leaving.

OoOoOoO

"What do you mean you lost them?" Donald's face grew warm with the rapidly engulfing anger and fear that followed his uncle's declaration.

Scrooge, for his part, looked just as upset about the situation as he did. "They did'nae show up to the designated meeting spot. They were supposed to stay in the shopping plaza while we check on an artifact."

"So you thought it best to just leave without them?" That couldn't be it. Donald knew his uncle better than that, but he was angry. There was no plausible reason for the elder duck not to come home with his boys.

Scrooge didn't yell like he'd expected after such a blatant accusation. Instead, he pulled a folded paper from his vest pocket, handing it to the distraught duck. Donald took it and unfolded the page, quietly reading the abductor's warning. Kidnapped. His boys were in the hands of one of his uncle's enemies and the anger was quickly slipping away to become soul crushing worry.

"We'll get them back." Scrooge's hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Trust me on that."

With that, the group moved into the mansion and Donald knew his uncle was making a promise. He would spare no expense to find the boys. Their boys.

OoOoOoO

The rules were simple. Do as they were told, meals would be together in the dining room, any outside time would be on a cable attached to the falcon, and if asked a question, they were to answer promptly. Huey would have appreciated the well thought out regimen if it weren't for the fact that they had no choice but to follow it.

He and Dewey had been given sandwiches and water while the rules were set out before them. As turned off as they were by the meals, their bellies ached for something, even if it was minimal and from a bird who didn't have their best interests at heart. Huey had tried to decipher the layout of their prison, easily finding the front door, along with the line of deadbolts keeping it tightly shut.

When they made it back to their room, he figured it was a one story house. It couldn't even be a big house with how close the exit was to the kitchen. A living area and other room across from it were the only other rooms he could see. That didn't leave a lot of places to snoop or hide if they needed to.

As the door swung open, they were met with the wide, frightened eyes of Louie, sitting up in the middle of bed. Dewey ran in first, practically leaping on the bed to engulf their little brother in a protective hug. Huey wasn't far behind. The trio clung to each other, refusing to let go until the youngest stopped quaking. They ignored their captor as he placed something on the end of the bed before leaving them to discuss what would happen next.

"You guys alright?" Louie's voice broke through the soft fabric of Dewey's shirt.

The older ducks sat back, using the limited light from the window to see the groggy look on their brother's face. "We're fine." Huey soothed, giving the arm he was holding a gentle squeeze.

"What about you?" Dewey asked with a worried tinge to his words. "You're looking pretty rough."

Louie's hands came up to scrub at his eyes as though he were trying to rid himself of the effects of the drug. "Feels like I'm trying to move through pudding. And not good pudding."

The eldest frowned, trying to remember what the JWG said about sedatives. Even if he could remember, there probably wasn't much they could do with what little they had. He soon remembered Graves leaving something with them and he slid away from his brothers to go find it.

A wrapped sandwich and glass of water sat neatly on the corner. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He took the water, passing it to Louie who took a tentative sip before drinking the rest.

While their brother ate, they told him about Graves and their run in with him at Woddle industries. The rules were repeated with a great deal of annoyance from the middle child. Of course, they had no intention of following those rules if it meant they could escape. They would just play it safe until the opportunity arose.

"You think Uncle Scrooge will find us?" Louie asked as they lay on the bed, staring at wood planks of the ceiling. Sleep had been discussed, but allusive with the adrenaline still buzzing through them.

"I don't know. This guys seems to know what he's doing." It wasn't that Huey doubted their uncle's abilities to track them down, but this wasn't the Beagle Boys. Graves wasn't an idiot. He probably had back ups to ensure they wouldn't be found.

"Well, then it's our job to make it easier." Dewey announced, his usual determination shining through the darkness of their situation. Given enough time, they would find some way to get themselves out of the falcon's hands.

The rest of the evening was spent searching the room once more. They found a loose board, gently prying it up to find the foundation underneath. It wasn't much, but it could be used to hide anything else they found. One of the bed springs had been removed after a small tear had been made in the mattress. The window was useless with the bars attached on the outside. No unscrewing them if they couldn't get to them.

When the early morning hours rolled in, the boys finally let themselves sleep, tucked closely against one another for warmth and security. And though it was a troubled sleep, they rested in the fact that each would watch over the other. They would get through this together.


	2. Chapter 2

Louie woke with a start, frantically searching for his brothers, only to find them curled up on either side of him. He let himself drop back into the mattress, his heart hammering from the nightmare that had pulled him from sleep.

Two days. They'd been trapped in the house for forty-eight hours and forced to work for their captor. Graves would tower over them as they swept and mopped, cleaning each room of the home until it shone in the afternoon sun. He could still smell the pine of the cleaner.

Louie stretched, painfully, his limbs sore from the overuse. It seemed Graves wanted to keep them occupied and tired. It would mean less of a chance that the boys would try to escape. The only good thing about all the manual labor was the sleight-of-hand he could use to pocket a paper towel and a piece of charcoal from the fireplace. Each little item he and his brothers could collect, whether useful or not, was like an inch towards freedom.

The sound of footsteps pulled his attention back to their room, noting the gentle glow streaming in through the window. Morning. Louie shut his eyes against the fatigue and panic of having to go through another day of hard work. He knew Uncle Scrooge relished the chance to make his youngest nephew learn the benefits of hands-on labor, but this was bordering on abuse. They hadn't just cleaned the cabin. They scoured it of any trace of dirt and grime. They refinished old wood until it sparkled. But most of all, they had been forced to do it with the threat of severe punishment hanging over their heads. Louie wasn't sure what that punishment would be, but he figured it wouldn't help them escape.

The lock clicked, sending his heart into his throat. He kept his eyes closed as the door swung open and the heavy footsteps made their way inside.

"Get up." Graves kicked the bed, as he did when he wanted them awake. His voice grew louder as the three ducks refused to respond. "I said, get up."

"Give us a break." Dewey spoke clearly beside him. Louie wondered when his brother had woken up. "We're exhausted."

There was a yelp of surprise as the bed shifted and Louie's eyes flew open. Dewey hung from the falcon's grasp, kicking out against the hold. Beside him, Huey had sat up, watching the exchange with growing concern. The middle child wore a defiant glare, a sure sign that trouble was about to find them again.

"You will do as I say. Now, get moving." Graves growled, dropping the small form back onto the bed.

"And I said we need a break!" Louie watched the stubbornness flash through his brother's glare as he stared down the falcon. The large figure remained silent, eyes piercing the young duck with a calm that sent a chill through the youngest triplet.

"Very well." Graves' voice was deep and resigned, as though the decision had been made long before he had set foot in the room. Louie blinked, not sure what this meant. Had his brother won the argument? He quickly learned the answer to that question as the falcon pushed the blue-clad duck aside, bending to take hold of the other two with a solid grip.

"What? Wait!" Dewey's voice grew frantic with the sudden change of focus. "What are you doing?"

Louie met Huey's frightened eyes as they both struggled against their captor who was quickly leaving the room. Fear was evident in their middle brother's voice before the door was slammed behind them, effectively separating the brothers. They were carried to one of the locked closets, the bird setting Huey down with a terse growl to stay as he unlocked the deadbolt. Inside, a metal box, just big enough for one of them to sit in with their head lowered, lay open like the maw of a waiting shark.

"Inside." Graves gave Huey a shove towards the box, the duck hesitantly climbing inside with fresh tears clinging to his eyelids. Louie wanted to grab him and hold his brother close, away from the new prison, but the door quickly shut, trapping his older brother away in the cramped darkness.

"Please." Louie begged through the tears threatening to choke him. "We'll work, whatever you want! Just let him out!"

They stopped in front of another closet, the door opening to reveal a similar box to the other. Louie was lowered to stand before it, his heart hammering as he was pushed forward.

"Resistance will not be tolerated." Graves stated, giving the small form a hard glare. "This will be a lesson for all of you to not take my commands lightly."

Tears fell down his cheeks as he crawled into the box, letting out a sob as the door closed, leaving him to his own thoughts and fears.

OoOoOoO

Dewey scrubbed away another tear as it fell to the already spotless floor, finishing the small living room. Graves stood in the doorway, watching him stand with the bucket of soapy water. The last of the day's light was fading as they walked into the kitchen, a plate sitting at the table with the usual sandwich and water. The young duck felt sick at the reminder that his brothers hadn't been given either the whole day.

"Eat." The falcon ordered, sitting across to ensure Dewey did as he was told. He wanted to vomit, his stomach twisting at the idea of putting anything in it, but at the stern look from their captor, he quickly sat down, lifting the sandwich to his beak. Each bite was agony, but he forced himself to choke it down, washing the last of it away with the water.

With the wariness of a days worth of labor on top of the intense guilt, Dewey stumbled into the small bedroom, falling onto the mattress with a sob. He wasn't sure how long he'd lain there when the door opened again. Sitting up was painful, but he ignored it in order to see the two small figures pushed into the room. He jumped forward, catching them in shaking arms as they fell to the floor.

"Sorry, I'm sorry-" Dewey cried, clinging to his brothers.

A soft whimper fell from Huey, his face buried into the blue fabric at Dewey's shoulder. "N-not your fault."

"This guys-" Louie let out a hiccuped sob. "-a jerk."

The trio sat in the dark of their room feeling the pain of the day with each shuddering breath. They slowly made their way to the bed, unwilling to let go of the other. Dewey's heart ached with the gentle gurgling that echoed from his brothers' empty stomachs.

"Are you guys okay?" He eventually asked, unable to ease the guilt weighing on him.

They didn't answer immediately, letting out light sniffles. Louie took a breath, loosening his grip on Dewey's sleeve. "Remember when I got stuck in that cabinet on the houseboat?"

He remembered. His brother had been so freaked out at first, screaming for help. Once he and Huey had found him, Louie had settled down until their uncle could find a crowbar to pry the door open. When it finally opened, they found Louie with a content grin on his face. It was hard to remember he'd been freaked out only moments before.

He continued without needed acknowledgement. "Everything was okay, because I knew you guys were there. I didn't need to worry." There was a silence, interrupted by the gentle intake of breath that accompanied tears. The youngest's voice was a squeak as he tried to continue. "I just- that box- was so bad... because I knew you guys were being hurt too. I just wanted out."

Dewey felt the warm tears flow again with his brothers', Huey shivering against him, unable to express what his experience had been like. The sudden desire for their uncles was overwhelming and forced another sob from his chest. He hated Graves for everything he was putting them through and hated himself for not being able to protect his brothers from it.

"It'll be okay." Huey finally spoke with a whisper that left Dewey wondering if he was trying to convince then or himself. They pulled each other closer, comforted only by the warmth as they slowly drifted off into a fitful sleep with the hope that this would all end soon.

OoOoOoO

The three boys sat at the table, two of them eagerly devouring the first food they'd had in a day. Huey would never look at a sandwich the same again, but at the moment it was heaven to his angry stomach. He glanced over to Dewey who had barely touched his breakfast. It seemed Graves had noticed too and simply cleared his throat. The reaction was instantaneous, the blue-clad duck taking a large bite of the sandwich to appease their captor.

"We'll be going out today." The falcon spoke, an underlying threat present in his voice.

They finished eating and a short while later, they were lined up at the locked door, Graves fastening a length of cable to their wrists, effectively tying them together. Huey regarded the cuff on his arm with a sense of dread, as well as relief. If they were strapped together, they couldn't be separated. The problem lay with the attachment of the end to the falcon's belt. It meant, any chance to run would be halted by the large bird.

"Stay close." Graves gave the line a sharp tug, forcing the triplets to follow quickly behind him as they stepped through the door. Outside, the morning sun was casting bright, golden ray's through the trees, setting a stark contrast to the boys' mood as they trudge along a path into the woods. The falcon's legs were almost as long as they were tall, each stride forcing them to a slow jog just to keep up. Huey figured this was his plan. Everything Graves did was to leave them tired and unable to think straight enough to come up with a plan.

"Where are we going?" Huey hazarded to ask, hoping it wasn't straying outside the boundary of the rules. They were still doing as they'd been told.

"To pick up supplies." The reply was short and did not follow with any further explanation. Huey considered it a win, at least.

They continued at the grueling pace, the boys trying to keep their footing as the ran. The farther they went into the forest, the more difficult that task became.

"Can we- please- slow down?" Louie asked from the middle, his lungs heaving with effort. Other than the run, the other contributing factor to the hike's effects on the small ducks was the fact that they were somewhere on a mountain. The path had followed a steep slope through the woods. Even the experienced would have some difficulty running up it.

Huey was surprised when their captor slowed his pace down to the point they were walking rather than running, albeit quickly. His heart hammered just a bit faster at the prospect of getting in trouble again, but if he was upset, Graves didn't show it.

A hand found his, Huey turning to look over his shoulder at his little brother. Something wild was in his eyes, a frantic need for his big brother to keep his cool. But why? And then he saw it, the cuff dangling loosely around Louie's wrist. It looked attached, but his brother could easily slip out of it. How? The urge to ask was almost unbearable, but as he saw the nail held tight between Louie's fingers, he remembered the little he had collected during the initial cleaning of the house. Huey mouthed a quick 'good job' before returning his view to the trail in front of them, letting his arm hang back in his brother's grasp.

Louie made quick work of the cuff, his hand staying in Huey's until they were ready. He hadn't seen if Dewey's cuff was off yet, but as he felt the tight squeeze of his palm, he turned again to see both brother with their thumbs up, ready to execute whatever plan this was.

In one swift motion, all three cuffs slipped to the ground and they were running. Arms pumped with each pounding foot step back down the mountain. Blue and green stayed in front of him and he was glad of it, not wanting to lose sight of either one in their mad dash for anywhere but the clutches of the bird for hire. He dared not look back up the path, simply imagining the towering mass careening down after them. They needed to get into the woods. The path was too clear and Graves would easily catch up to them if they didn't move.

Dewey seemed to have the same idea, veering into the dense foliage at the next bend. Each footfall was a risk, but a sharp growl that sounded behind them was an indication of how worth it the direction was. Huey leapt over a log, his heart high in his throat with the rush of adrenaline and fear. He was so focused on running and jumping, he missed the growing roar until he nearly collided with Louie. They'd stopped at the edge of a steep riverbank that overlooked an angry, churning river.

"Stop!" Graves growled, rapidly closing the distance between them, a look of sheer murder on his face.

Huey clung to his brothers' shirts, willing his brain to find another solution. A solution found them.

His view of the falcon and the forest around him fell away, the dirt under his feet crumbling into the rushing waters below. And then, he was under, being swept down the river. The water was like ice, burning his limbs as he fought his way to the surface. He gasped in a lung-full of air as he burst through, frantically trying to get his bearings and a visual on his brothers.

Dewey broke the surface a second later, clawing at the water to stay afloat. Huey swam forward, latching onto one of the flailing arms.

"Calm down!" He ordered when his brother continued to thrash. "I've got you!" Their eyes met long enough for the panic to start ebbing away. With clarity came the next problem. "Where's Louie?"

A spluttering cough had them looking down stream again, catching the white feathers before they went under again. Huey's heart seized as he realized his brother was too far away and if he stayed under… that was it. He couldn't lose Louie. It was an impossible thought that left him colder than the water that carried them farther from their captor.

"Come on!" Still holding his older brother, Dewey began paddling forward, not willing to let the youngest go without a fight. He was rewarded when the duck in question popped out of the water again, gulping in air as he did. "Louie! Hang on!"

Louie looked frantic as he searched for the voice, locking eyes with Huey before they were swept through a formation of boulders in the river. Together, the two older brothers pushed and kicked with the flow of the water, slowly gaining on the younger. Their arms burned with the chill of the water, but as their hands wrapped into the green fabric and pulled, Huey found he couldn't feel it, too relieved to have a hold on his brother.

"What do we do?" Louie asked as the water pulled them faster, past tall embankments. Occasionally, a fallen tree would stick into the water, too far for them to reach in time.

Huey let his frantic mind calm, trying to recall the information he knew he had. "We need to get to the side, try to grab something so we can get out!" He saw the two nods, the group already pulling against the flow as they slowly made their way to the right of the river. No need being on the same side as Graves if they could help it.

Dewey saw it first. "Coming up on a tree! Get ready!" It was a long birch, its leaves long since gone, ravaged by the water it had fallen into. The three of them hit it, arms desperately wrapping around the trunk and branches. The river beat against them, trying to pull them back in. Huey dug his feet into the mud, reaching up to grab the edge of the embankment. He scrambled up, over the edge and spun, reaching down to help Dewey climb. He was just getting his foot up on the ledge when they heard Louie's startled cry. Both looked to see their little brother clinging to a branch after losing his grip on the log.

"Louie! Grab my hand!" Dewey had stepped back into the river, one arm extended as Huey held the other. The eldest watched as Louie pulled against the branch, trying to find purchase to reach up and grab the offered appendage.

 _Snap_.

And then he was gone.

Huey wasn't sure where the burst of strength came from, but as he hauled Dewey out of the river, he knew the only thing he could focus on was running. They had to keep up. From their vantage, they could see the bright green and white, nearly choking as their brother broke the surface. They needed to get ahead of him, but the current was too strong, dragging the small duck farther down stream.

"Get to the side again!" Huey heard himself yell. He couldn't be sure if his brother heard it, the rush of the water drowning out the sounds around them.

"Oh no! No no no! Huey! Rapids!" He heard the warning, Dewey keeping pace just behind him. His mind was screaming that this couldn't be happening. A panicked search of the river banks offered little for Louie to grab. He was going to hit the rapids no matter what they did.

So Huey did the only thing he could think of. "Louie! You need to float on your back, feet in front of you!" He was rewarded with the sight of his brother doing as he was instructed. "Good! Keep your feet up so they don't get caught on the rocks! You're going to be okay!" The last part might have been more convincing if it weren't for the tears falling down his cheeks.

They watched with numb horror as the river took their brother into the thrashing, white waters and out of sight.

OoOoOoO

Louie took in a sharp breath before he plunged back into the river, doing his best to keep himself from hitting the bottom. He collided with another rock, unable to feel the jarring through his arm due to the freezing temperature. Lungs burning with the need for oxygen, he wanted to swim, paddle his way to the surface, but the current kept him under. There was a strong suction that pulled him farther down before he was shot back up, his head breaking the surface and finally allowing him to take in a gasping breath.

Something in the way the river flowed made itself known as he bobbed back under, the erratic tossing of the rapids diminishing. Louie was able to sluggishly swim back to the surface, treading weakly across the now smooth surface. His head was spinning as the new aches ran through his exhausted form and he wasn't sure where he was swimming. He just wanted to find an edge, anything to stop his progress.

Pain flared up Louie's side as he slammed into a log wedged against a rock and it was all he could do to cling to it. His head felt heavy and everything was taking on a grayish haze, the river roaring in his ears. It could have been a few seconds or minutes, Louie lost track, when he heard the far off calls of his name, but he paid it no mind, focused on the wood that was keeping him from sinking. Hands found him, pulling his arms free of the tree with little resistance and carrying him up into the soft grass at the river's edge.

"Louie?" He could hear the trembling in Huey's voice, gentle fingers pushing back the feathers across his forehead. "Are you okay?"

Despite being waterlogged, his voice was ragged as he gave a weak answer. "Terrible ride. Zero outta ten."

A sobbed snort of laughter sounded from his other side, Dewey leaning over him with tears streaked through the dirt on his face. "Never do that again."

Louie smiled, knowing full well he hadn't wanted to try it the first time. He let his eyes drift shut, the terror from his ordeal stealing away any energy he had left.

When he opened them again, he found his view had shifted, his chin resting on Dewey's shoulder as he was carried on his back. When had they picked him up? And why were they walking through the woods? Answers were alluding him, suffocated by the pounding in his head.

"Hey." Louie's voice came out a pained whisper and he realized just how much everything hurt. Each step towards their destination was a spike through his limbs and his side.

"Hey." Dewey answered breathlessly. "Hey, Huey, wait a sec. Louie's awake."

Huey was leading, which made sense for reasons he couldn't produce. His oldest brother stopped and made it back to them in a matter of seconds. He looked worried as he rested a hand on his little brother's head. "How are you feeling?"

Louie grimaced at the question. Normally, he would blow an injury out of proportion simply to score sympathy points and get some extra time on the couch, TV all to himself. This was different. They were in serious trouble and he'd just been sent through nature's washing machine set to high. They needed him to be okay. He needed to be able to help them if the circumstances called for it.

So, he did what came natural. He lied. "Just a little sore, but I'm okay."

The relief was instant, Huey's shoulders falling as the tension lifted. He gave him a smile before asking. "Think you can walk?"

No. "Yeah, think so." Louie let out a small grunt as Dewey gently lowered him to the ground. His older brothers kept a hold of his arms as he faltered, righting himself a moment later. The middle brother pulled Louie's arm over his shoulders, not willing to trust his brother to stay up on his own. Hopefully this would be faster than having to be carried.

The threat of being found by Graves was still present, forcing them to continue on. Huey had chosen to take them north, away from the mountains that peaked over the trees. It was slow going and by the time the sun was high above them they were still trudging down the slope. More than once, a root caught their feet, causing them to stumble. It would halt their progress until Louie was able to get his footing again, trying his best to hide the pain that shot through his side. He knew he would have to tell his brothers eventually, that the pain was getting worse, but for now, he kept it to himself. They'd find a road or town soon enough, then they would call their uncles to come get them. Simple. Just, not easy, but it was the thought of finding help that kept him going.

OoOoOoO

Scrooge frowned at the demand that lay on his desk. Regarding it as though it were a knife meant to pierce his heart. In a way, it had, but he'd been through far too much in his lifetime to let it show. This was a ransom, but, unlike most that required money in order to ensure the safe return of his loved ones, this one was more on the lines of blackmail. As long as he did as he was ordered, the boys would stay unharmed. There would be no exchange. They were gone.

His first action, per the note, would be to deliver three million dollars to a location by the marina. If he didn't, consequences would follow. As much as he wanted proof of life, he wasn't willing to put his nephews through more hardship than they were dealing with right now.

He grimace as he remembered at the beginning of this nightmare how confident he was that the boys could handle themselves and would get out of the predicament on their own. It didn't even cross his mind to be worried, but then they had reached the twenty-four hour mark with no call from the boys or their captor. Now, they were approaching the end of the second day and his gut was churning with the realization that maybe they weren't able to escape. The note had only solidified that fear.

A knock at the door alerted him that Beakley was ready for the trip. Taking hold of the paper, Scrooge pushed away from the desk, his other hand grabbing the small briefcase. It was surprising how little room three million took up. Just one little case to keep the boys safe for another day.

OoOoOoO

Dewey didn't have a lot of early memories about his brother and when he first learned to talk. Mostly because he was learning at about the same time. He'd be hard pressed to recall the day Louie had told his first lie, but the subsequent ones after, especially the ones that involved him, those had been spectacular in their difficulty to distinguish between fact and fiction. His brother had a ridiculously strong gift to spin the truth.

Today, he was acutely aware of what those lies could lead to.

They had stopped within the confines of a grove of twisted trees, the trunks creating a shelter they could rest in. Dewey had climbed in ahead of Louie, turning to help his brother. As soon as he'd made it inside Louie had collapsed. The two conscious ducks had immediately freaked out, laying him down as best they could while trying to remember their first aid training. Dewey knew the basics, but this seemed so far out of his understanding. Did Louie have a concussion? Should they try waking him up? Should they move him? Was he dying and they were helplessly watching?

Then, Huey had lifted the sweatshirt.

Dark bruising under the feathers on his left side was the next indication that Louie was in serious trouble. Huey had suggested broken ribs and possible internal bleeding, but there was no way their little brother would have been able to walk down a mountain the way he had if that were the case. Further inspection showed bruising on his shoulder and a sizable lump on the side of his head. Concussion was sounding like the more plausible cause of their brother's unconscious state, but that didn't mean it was the only contributing factor.

"What now?" Dewey asked, leaning against a tree trunk, his eyes never leaving the slow rise and fall of Louie's chest.

Wiping a stay tear off his cheek, Huey shrugged. "We can't move him like this." That was obvious, but staying put wasn't an option. They didn't have any food or supplies and they couldn't know if their brother was going to get worse. "I think we should stay here. At least for tonight. If-" He stopped, swallowing hard against the ache Dewey knew was growing in his heart. "If Louie doesn't wake up by morning, one of us is going to have to keep going."

"No way!" He knew it could be their only option, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "We have to stay together. We could- we could build one of those sled thingys and drag him behind us."

Huey seemed to deflate at this suggestion, his voice growing tight with the confession he never wanted to make. "We don't have any way to do that. Usually, I'd have my pack with all my tools in it."

He knew that, too. The tears were welling up with the fear and frustration of the situation and he wanted to continue arguing. Feeling angry seemed better than scared, but as he looked at Huey, fear just as present in his brother as it was in him, he couldn't bring himself to speak. He still wouldn't let either of them go on alone.

A tense silence stretched between them, both working to find any other option. The best solution was for Louie to wake up and be able to continue with them. The worst would be to let Huey or himself leave the other two in order to find help, but even if the one found help, how were they supposed to find the others once they did get the authorities involved? It just wasn't anything the middle brother was willing to consider. He would carry Louie if he had to.

"I'm going to get a shelter started. See if I can find some food, too." Huey finally spoke, Dewey aware of the burden of responsibility weighing heavily on his brother's shoulders. As the eldest stood, he joined him, pulling him into a fierce hug. He needed to know that he wasn't alone, even if he did have the greatest skillset to keep then alive.

"We're going to get through this, together." He hoped the words would give enough relief, even as he realized they were words he desperately needed to hear himself. As they separated, Huey gave a small nod, wiping another tear from his eye.

"I won't be far." He offered, climbing through the entrance to their hideaway. "Call if anything changes." They both regarded Louie, complete understanding passing between them.

And then, he was gone. Off to complete tasks that had been well practiced through his Junior Woodchuck training. Dewey suddenly wished he'd been as enthusiastic about it and with growing shame, he understood why so much lay on Huey. He was potentially the only one keeping them alive. 


	3. Chapter 3

Night fell without incident, the boys safely huddled together in the small shelter of branches and leaves. Huey had found some raspberry bushes and returned with a few handfuls of the fruit, along with a cup made of interwoven leaves. Apparently, a stream that veered off of the one that had brought them this far was only a few yards away. The greatest relief, however, was when Louie had woken up, groaning about his head.

Now, wedged between his brothers, he still ached, but the throbbing in his head had lessened after the food and drink. It was manageable. He grimaced at the memory of his brothers after they had confirmed he was feeling better. He'd lied to them and scared them when they realized how much worse he actually was. Tears of anger and worry had forced him to look at anything but them. Arms had eventually reached out, surrounding him, and he let his own tears fall to the dirt they rested on. Louie had actually heard himself apologize, followed by the gentle warning to never do it again. He needed to be honest when it came to how bad he was hurt.

A soft breeze ruffled the feathers on his head and he tried to sink in, closer to his brothers. They were both out, exhausted from the long day and the emotional stress he had inadvertently caused. Louie couldn't sleep. A nightmare of raging waters and drowning had seen to that. Instead, he stared up through the leaves, catching the glowing specks beyond the treetops.

His mind began to wander, no longer wishing to dwell on his earlier mistakes. Uncle Donald was his first thought. They'd been gone for almost two days now and he could imagine his uncle tearing his feathers out with worry. He honestly couldn't remember the last time they'd been without their family, be it Uncle Donald or Scrooge. There were times when it was just them and Launchpad. Maybe he could count those times as moderately dangerous, but still, it was rarely just the three of them on their own for an extended period of time. For so long, the idea of having more freedom had sounded amazing. He and his brothers had imagined all the things they could accomplish without adult supervision. Tonight, all he wanted was his family and if they did find them, he never want to be without them again.

The sharp snap of a fallen branch sent his thoughts to a screeching halt, his breath catching in his throat as he listened. Louie didn't dare move even as his chest began to throb with the tension of muscles joining with the need for oxygen. Beyond the confines of their hiding spot, it was impossible to see anything that lurked, another crunch of leaves sending his heart into his throat. Seconds stretched like minutes as he willed whatever it was to go away. And he was force to let out the breath he was holding, quietly drawing in more oxygen.

Silence stretched over the forest, Louie blinking away moisture as he stared through the low roof of their shelter. Another shaky breath left him and he felt himself start to relax.

In a burst of leaves and sticks, the branches were yanked free, exposing Louie to the open sky and the towering hulk of Graves. A large hand shot forward, taking hold of the front of his sweatshirt, pulling him away from his still sleeping brothers. His voice was gone, unable to scream as he came face to face with the rage-filled eyes, his heart hammering as tears began to fall.

And then, he was falling, away from the terrorizing gaze, away from the dark forest, from his brothers. Water engulfed him a moment later, dragging him deeper until he reached the bottom, stuck against a log that wouldn't let him surface. Again, he wanted to scream, but his mouth was full of river water, cold and thick.

Panic began to pulse through him as he pushed against the dead tree. Just as he realized it wouldn't budge, small hands were on his arm, pain shooting through his left shoulder as another pair took hold.

And the river was gone.

In its place was darkness, hands resting on his arms. He was still in the cluster of trees and he could feel his brothers shifting on either side of him.

"Louie?" Dewey's voice came as a whisper. "Are you awake?"

He found his brother's hand, giving it an answering squeeze. He couldn't remember falling back to sleep, but as the images from the nightmare began to fade, he let out a trembling, "Yeah."

"Bad dream?" Huey asked, tentatively.

"Yeah." This time it was a little clearer, his heart slowing in its attempt to burst through his chest. Neither brother asked any further questions even though Louie was sure they were curious what it had been about. He wouldn't be able to tell them if they had asked. All he wanted was for all of this to be over, but as his brothers settled back down around him, he'd never been more grateful for them.

OoOoOoO

The Beagle Boys. Of course, it would be them. Hadn't they already learned, on multiple occasions that kidnapping his family was a pointless endeavor?

Scrooge's grip on his cane grew as Beakley pulled to a stop a few cars behind the one carrying three million and the villains that had earned his ire. They'd been following the group for three hours, finding themselves entering the more mountainous regions of the area. Beside him, Donald was focused, the same steely glare in his eyes that he had set on the dogs once they had emerged to retrieve their spoils. The elder duck was glad for his nephew's drive, counting on him to be detrimental in the boys' return.

The cars began to move again, the Beagle Boys turning onto a side road that lead into a state park. Whatever their plan was, they were reaching the end of their trek. Scrooge was pleased to see another vehicle turn with them, making their move to follow a little less conspicuous.

They finally stopped, finding a secluded area when it became apparent, the villains had made it as far as they could go. Binoculars held to his eyes, Scrooge watched the trio exit the car, heading towards a picnic shelter with the briefcase in hand. He was mildly confused about their choice of hideout, but as a tall falcon stepped out of the shadows, it became quite clear what had happened.

"Looks like the Beagle Boys hired some help." Scrooge's theory was confirmed as the case was set on one of the tables and opened, the bird studying the money before closing it once more. They were talking, anger flashing across the shortest dog's face. Lipreading had always been an allusive skill for him, so it was with much expectation that he turned to the woman beside him, her own set of binoculars in hand.

"What do you mean you're done." Beakley translated. "The boys are gone, so there is little reason for me to continue."

Scrooge's heart jumped at that. What did 'gone' mean?

"What do you mean gone?" Apparently, the Beagle Boys were following the same wavelength. "We need them to get more out of McDuck. So do you, if you want any more money."

The falcon glared at the dogs. "They fell in a river. Pretty certain they're dead-" Beakley's voice caught, unable to continue her reading. It was only a moment, the ex-spy continuing even as Scrooge felt his stomach drop. "Don't underestimate these tweeps. We've seen them get out of much worse."

It was weird to hear something from the villains that the older duck knew just as clearly. They were resilient. They had more skills than some kids twice their age. They had to be alive. But that meant they were lost in the wilderness. How was he supposed to help them if he didn't know where they were.

"Then my price doubles." Beakley spoke, pulling him back to the situation at hand. "I find the boys or their bodies and I get all of the next payout."

"Not likely." Scrooge growled. The rest of the conversation was a series of agreements and he realized the situation had grown in severity. If the falcon had refused, he and his family could search for the boys on their own. Now, they had to beat the group to it. "We need a map of the area." He turned to see Donald, catching the murderous scowl on his face as he regarded the criminals. "We'll find them, Donald." The duck simply nodded and Scrooge began to wonder just what would happen once they confronted the kidnappers. But that was neither here or now. What they needed to do was follow the falcon. He was the last to see his nephews.

Beakley handed over a phone, the map on the screen showing their current location. He quietly began to study the area around them, eyes traveling over the blue lines that weaved around the mountains. One of them would lead to the boys. As their car began to move, trailing after the group that had decided his family was the key to his fortune - and in some ways it was, he wouldn't deny that - Scrooge knew nothing would stop him from finding their boys. Not even the mountains themselves.

OoOoOoO

Louie was walking on his own now, only needing help when it came to climbing over obstacles, but it was still slow going. Dewey had been keeping his eye on his little brother since they had woken up that morning, keen to ensure he couldn't hide any new or worsening injuries.

They were still relying heavily of Huey leading them out of the forest and it appeared the red-clad duck had found his anchor in this disaster. It was something he could focus on, a purpose. It kept his mind off the fact that they'd been kidnapped, tormented and sent hurtling down a river.

In a quick movement that even surprised the middle child, Dewey caught Louie's right arm as he began to slide through the loose leaves that covered the sloped ground. They both skidded a few feet down the path before coming to a stop. Huey backtracked to their sides a moment later, helping then back to their feet.

"Thanks." Louie tried to smile, but groaned as he rubbed his left shoulder, jarred by the fall. "I'm okay, really." He added as they regarded him with concern.

"Louie." The warning in Dewey's voice earned a slight bashfulness from his little brother.

"Really. As promised, not lying." As if to prove his newfound honest streak, he held out the offending arm, tentatively moving it. "Just sore."

Appeased by the demonstration, the group continued on, stopping as Huey came upon another berry bush that yielded enough fruit to lift their spirits. They'd already filled up on what they could find by the tree shelter. This new find simply capped off an improving morning.

With hope rekindled and bellies content, the only thing that could dampen their spirits was the sudden drop off as they came to the edge of a cliff. They were lucky to see it well before they had come up to the edge, peering over to see the hundred or so foot drop to the rocky bottom.

Dewey looked to his older brother for their next move. Huey was looking out over the horizon, intense in thought. "What are you thinking?"

With a deep sigh, Huey turned to them, his face serious as he spoke. "See that tower over there?" He was pointing out to the left and Dewey could just make out a metal structure sticking out of the trees. "It's for power lines. If we can get to them, we can follow them to a town." He didn't need to emphasize what that would mean for their chances of getting home.

"Great! Let's get going!" He should've known there was a catch considering how his brothers bill turned down.

"It's probably going to take the rest of the day to get off this mountain if we walk around to where it slopes again and another half to get to the tower." Huey went back to staring at the structures. "I figure, if we climb down here, we can get there by nightfall."

The absolute desire to just go, hit Dewey like a rocket. His gut was screaming to climb down. They'd done far more dangerous things than that, but as he turned to Louie, he realized the dilemma. Their little brother had taken a seat on a root, his back leaning against a tree as his half-lidded eyes blinked tiredly.

Huey turned to regard their brother, as well, but there was a look of determination on his face. "I've got an idea, but we're gonna need to find a bunch of vines to make it work."

A groan sounded from the green-clad brother as he pushed himself forward, preparing to stand. "Let's get to it then."

Dewey was a second faster than the eldest, placing a hand on Louie's head to prevent any further movement. "Nope, you stay."

Huey continued for him before the youngest could argue. "You're gonna need to rest before we climb down. Not gonna lie, it's going to be rough."

"But… I'm not thrilled about splitting up." It didn't take much to gently push Louie back against the tree he'd been leaning on. Dewey wasn't thrilled with the idea either, but there was no way he was letting Huey take on the dangerous task of climbing trees to get the natural ropes on his own. He would never forgive himself if his older brother got hurt, alone in the woods. Louie was just going to sit here and take it easy. They would be able to find the ledge again and their brother along with it. No getting lost.

"We'll be quick." Huey added as he began picking up a large stone to inspect. They were both surprised when he turned and threw it at a boulder protruding from the cliff edge.

"Woah, I know this is a stressful situation, but I don't think you should resort to violence." Louie grinned. Dewey watched their brother pick up a large chuck of the one he'd thrown, the stone shearing off to create a jagged edge. He couldn't help but smile, as well.

Shaking his head, Huey stepped back over with his new tool. "Ready?" Dewey nodded, but didn't miss when Louie's smile fell. "Half an hour and we'll come back." The young duck nodded and then they were off.

Regardless how quickly they planned on finishing their task, there was no denying the ache of leaving their injured brother to sit on the side of a cliff to wait. They turned their gaze up into the treetops, searching for the moss-covered vines that extended down the trunks. When they found one, Huey made quick work of climbing as high as he could without the use of the thing they planned on removing. Dewey was amazed how well the broken rock made it through the thick vine. Once through, he pulled the piece free of the trunk and laid it on the ground before turning to ensure his brother made it down safe. They completed this task three more times before they had what they hoped was enough to make it down the cliff.

Dewey was helping bundle the lengths together for the trip back to Louie when he couldn't help pulling Huey into a startled hug. There was a minute where the two of them didn't speak, simply holding onto each other as though the ground was about to fall out from under them.

Finally, the blue-clad duck let out a shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves. "I know we've never really taken the junior woodchucks seriously, but if you- I don't know what we would've done without you." He pulled his brother into a tighter hug. "Thanks, bro."

A light sniffle from Huey sent a shiver through the middle brother's shoulder. They both wiped away the moisture from their eyes as they pulled apart, returning to the task of gathering up the vines.

Huey let out a chuckle as they began the trek back to the cliff. "So does this mean you'll start coming with me on my junior woodchuck meetings?"

Dewey smiled. "Honestly, it's crossed my mind."

They were back at the cliff's edge a few minutes later, cutting it close to the time frame they'd left for Louie. As they approached the location they'd left him, Dewey found he wasn't surprised to see their little brother asleep. He hadn't slept well. None of them had, but Louie was dealing with the physical stressors of being thrown down rapids. His body would be angry with him for a while.

For the next half hour, the two older brothers let the third rest while they went to work linking the vines together. Dewey, now wearing only his t-shirt, ripped another length of fabric from his undershirt, handing it to Huey. They managed to secure the makeshift rope to a tree, the length of the vines barely reaching the less steep slope at the base of the cliff.

They were ready.

"Lou?" Huey nudged their brother. "Time to get going."

An eye slit open, searching before he spoke groggily. "Don't want to go to school today."

The eldest brother laughed, smiling at the typical response. "I wish we were going to school."

Eyes shut, louie chuckled. "Me too." With a sigh, he slowly sat up, rubbing at his eyes before regarding the rope that would take them down the mountain. "Yeah, school would be a million times better than this."

Dewey watched as both brothers made it to their feet and stepped over. "I'll go first, then Louie. Sound good?" They nodded and the next task began.

The blue-clad duck found it fairly simple. It was something they had done on many of their adventures. Any other time, he and his brothers would have enjoyed it. He could remember a time they had used a set of three vines to swing across a chasm, laughing with his brothers as they crashed on the other side. Thinking back on it, that was probably the adrenaline. Given the same situation now, he was certain it wouldn't have been fun.

Dewey's feet dropped onto the pebble covered ground and he spun to look up and watch Louie as he made his way over the edge. His heart hammered in his chest, eyes glued to the green sweatshirt. Louie had his injured arm wrapped around the vine, holding it tight to his chest, while his right hand held onto the vine, slowly allowing himself to slide down. Halfway to the bottom, he stopped.

"You okay?" Dewey couldn't see his brother's face, but there was no mistaking the trembling of his shoulders.

The reply came in a breathless huff of fear trying to be disguised as humor. "Just- just hangin'. How mu-much farther?"

He wished he could climb back up and carry Louie the rest of the way. "You're halfway."

Something that sounded distinctly like a word Uncle Donald would be very cross with, Louie continued. "Uh 'kay, problem. I don't- think I can move."

Yes, that was a problem. "Huey?"

"On it." Their older brother had been keep an eye on Louie's progress from above and quickly swung his legs out to begin his climb. When he made it to their brother, he had to free climb to get past him, sending Dewey's heart rattling in his chest again. Huey repositioned himself under Louie, effectively letting him sit atop his shoulders. From his view at the bottom of the rope, it looked awkward and he could imagine how difficult the rest of the climb would be.

A few minutes later, Dewey was steadying Huey as he made the last drop, the red-clad duck taking a seat on the ground as his own arms and legs shook from effort. Louie was down a second later, taking a spot next to Huey.

"Thanks." The green-clad brother spoke through shuddered breaths as Dewey joined them to rest.

Although the trip down the cliff had taken its toll on the trio, it would save them half a day's travel. They could spare a few minutes before heading out again. In a few hours, he and his brothers would be with their uncles and safe. He was sure of it. 


	4. Chapter 4

Stars had started coming out against the deepening blue of the late evening sky. The images of constellations were easy to pick out with the low amount of light pollution. Unfortunately, it was that same lack of light that was hindering their progress. Plus, Louie was exhausted. Between the lack of sleep, the walking, and the death defying trip down a cliff, he was beginning to wonder if they would ever find the tower Huey had seen.

They were another stumble away from stopping for the night, when they finally found the structure. It wasn't much; four metal poles stretching upwards to connect a series of power lines. What was so fantastically breathtaking about them, however, was the single line that ran down to a small cabin with a single bulb lit over the front entrance. It beckoned them forward and they happily complied, knocking furiously at the wooden door.

"I don't think anyone's home." Louie finally offered after their call went unanswered. They tried the knob and found it locked, but after some close inspection and a search for the right tools, Louie had it swinging open.

"That's right!" Huey exclaimed. "We were in such a hurry before, I forgot to ask where you learned to pick locks.

Louie simply grinned at his brothers. It was a secret he and Uncle Scrooge had been toying with. One never knew when a treasure chest might need some encouragement. Now felt as good a time as any to fill his brothers in. "I asked Uncle Scrooge to teach me. You know… for treasure purposes."

The others shook their heads, grins plastered on their face as they stepped inside. The house was filled with the odds and ends one would expect in the living area. A sofa, coffee tables, television, and shelves of knickknacks and photos made the room seem homey and only served to make them long for their own home.

"See if you guys can find an address, some mail or something." Huey instructed, Louie taking off towards what looked like a kitchen. "I'll find the phone and call Uncle Donald."

Louie felt the pinpricks of moisture form at the corners of his eyes at the mention of their uncle. He was letting everything catch up to him even before they could contact the duck who had raised them and he understood how dangerous that could be. They weren't safe yet. They just had the resources to finally talk to their family.

The kitchen was a cluttered array of pots and pans, groceries strewn about as if someone hadn't felt like putting them away. And a stack of what he was looking for rested just next to a box of cereal. Louie quickly stepped over and grabbed the top envelope, reading the address. He checked a few others just to confirm they were the same before heading back to the living room.

He stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway, his eyes locked on the name above the address.

"Uncle Donald!" Huey's excited cry alerted the others that their uncle had answered. "We're okay. We found a house- yes, we're- Louie's hurt, but I think he'll be alright." His eyes found Louie, still standing with the letter in his hand. "Hang on, we're trying to find an address. Louie?"

He couldn't find his voice fast enough, resorting to waving Dewey over as he rushed to Huey's side. "Look who lives here." The words came out a hushed whisper.

They both read the name, their eyes going wide. Huey hesitated a second before giving their uncle the address. "Hurry, this place belongs to Ma Beagle."

As if the mere mentioning of the matriarch's name could summon her children, the trio heard the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway. The eldest alerted their uncle to the new development before hanging up. Hiding seemed the most logical option at the moment, but where? Louie knew how to find small places to tuck himself into, a skill gained from playing hide-and-seek on a houseboat, but that came from years of living on it. They'd just come into this house. Everything seemed too open, too readily checked by the cabins usual inhabitants.

There was no more time to think as he grabbed his brother's hands, wincing at the pull in his left side as they ran back into the kitchen. He was correct in remembering a back door, but his eyes were set on the pantry. If the food left on the counters was any indicator, these guys wouldn't be opening the door any time soon.

Louie was grateful for his brothers' willingness to follow his plan, scrambling under the lower shelf as Dewey closed the door.

He suddenly hated the space as Huey found his sleeve, gripping the material like a lifeline in the dark. It was like being in those boxes again, the only difference being they were together this time. Another arm wrapped around his shoulders as Dewey found a spot on his other side, the three of them trying to be a small as possible. They just needed to stay safe until their uncles got there.

OoOoOoO

Donald couldn't sit still as the car sped over the mountain roads, Beakley following the instructions that would lead them to the boys. They'd spent the day following the falcon until he could show them the river where he'd lost the kids. After that, they'd set out on their own trek, looking for the most likely places the boys could have gotten out. He refused to think they hadn't. He'd received the call on their way back to the car and had answered solely on reflex, not expecting the excited voice on the other end.

He let his eyes fall closed, trying to calm the anxiety of knowing where his boys were and the understanding that they were not out of danger. Images flashed through his mind, little ducklings crawling through the houseboat, desperate to explore their home. Donald had practically stood on his head to ensure nothing would happen to them. Yet, here he was, tracking them down to the home of the family that had taken them. Had hurt them. Huey's warning that Louie had been injured still blared in his mind and anger flared.

A hand caught his arm and he turned to face his uncle, a determined look on the older duck's face. "Save that for when we get there, lad."

Donald glanced down at his hands and realized they were clenched tight, fists shaking with the rage that had taken over. In the recesses of his mind, he knew the reason to calm down. He needed to conserve his energy for the villains, but for the life of him he couldn't. His imagination was driving through every possibility of what could have happened to the youngest duck.

"You'll be of no use to them if you burn out too soon. Deep breaths." Scrooge soothed, his own voice tight with underlying anger.

Complying with the instruction, Donald took in a steadying breath and let it out. With each intake, his head began to clear. "Sorry."

"Nae, you've every right." The elder duck turned back to watch the road. "Just remember to save some for the rest of us." Donald caught the sharp smile and knew they would be bringing his boys home if it was the last thing they did.

OoOoOoO

The pantry was cramped and smelled of mildew and rotten onions, but Dewey found the darkness comforting as feet shuffled over the living room floor. They could hear deep voices, angry as they moved through the room.

"Seven hours and you still can't find them. Unbelievable!" The voice belonged to a male, the accent familiar, but he couldn't place it. It wasn't Graves, though. That voice was burned into his memory.

"I told you." A small squeak fell from Louie's mouth at the falcon's response. "That river could have taken them miles from where they fell in. They're either lost or dead and I seriously suspect the latter."

Good. Let him think they're dead. It just meant they'll stop looking and all he and his brothers would have to do is wait for their uncles.

The first voice rose with anger. "Well, for your sake, we better find them! Kidnappin' and murder are pretty serious charges!"

"Is that a threat?" Graves' voice was low with warning.

Silence followed, broken only by the slow movement of feet. It was hard to tell how many were in the room, but whoever it was suggesting Graves would go down for their abduction must be pretty intimidating. The thought of getting caught and having to fight anyone bigger than the falcon seemed impossible a task.

And with dread growing in his gut, he realized that's what his uncles would be running into. Could they handle the villains?

Another voice broke the silence, deeper than the others. "Let's calm down. We got some of Scrooge's money. Maybe we call it quits and try something else?"

"Can it, Bouncer." The first voice growled and Dewey realized why he recognized it. Of course, it was the Beagle Boys. That was a plus in their favor. Uncle Scrooge had been dealing with them for years. Graves was the one to worry about now.

Before anything else could happen, they heard the scrape of tires digging through the dirt as a vehicle came to a stop. The middle child's heart beat so loud he thought the group outside might hear it, but his fears were shoved away as the criminals in the living room focused on the new arrivals.

"Is that-" Bigtime sounded shocked. "How did they find this place?"

Beside him, Louie pulled both brothers closer and he could feel the relief radiating from the youngest. Dewey felt the smile draw across his face at the confirmation that help had arrived.

"I'm out. No point getting money from the duck if he finds out his kids are gone." Graves' footsteps entered the kitchen, clicking over the linoleum as he made his way towards the rear exit. The trio held their breath, expecting any sound they made to be picked up by the bird. What happened, sent them clamping their hands over their beaks to keep from screaming.

The pantry door opened. For a second, it was as if time simply stopped, the boys willing themselves to melt into the shadows. Something shifted above as Graves rummaged through the storage space. Why couldn't he have just left! Dewey's mind was screaming. A second later, when a duffle bag hit the floor, he realized the hitman was collecting the rest of his payment, stacks of cash poking out of the unzipped bag.

The door began to close again, the three holding their breath, lungs aching for the latch to snap. It didn't. Instead, the door stopped, slowly opening with an eerie creak of unused hinges.

"Well, would you look at that." Dewey wanted to scream, wanted to do anything that would have stopped the large hand from reaching in and grabbing hold of green fabric. Instead, he launched himself at the arm clinging to it as Graves dragged him and Louie from their hiding spot. Kicking out blindly, he was rewarded with a huff of annoyance as his foot connected with the falcon's gut.

"Let go!" He heard Huey's angered cry as his brother jumped forward, tackling the larger form's leg and sending them crashing to the floor. A loud clattering sounded from the front of the house, but Dewey was too busy trying to pry the fingers away from Louie's shirt. He stopped as he felt Graves' other hand grab his arm, yanking him away from his brother.

Louie's eyes were wide, hands scrambling at the fist, pain evident in his face as Graves stood, pushing him against the floor. Dewey felt sick as the grip on his arm tightened and he was swung in an arc, landing against Huey as he got to his feet. The two of them crumpled into a pile against the wall, spots dancing across the middle duck's eyes with the impact.

"The three of you are nothing but trouble." Graves growled, tucking Louie under his arm before bending to pick up the bag of money. "One of you should be more than enough."

As the implication of the larger bird's words began to sink in, the kitchen door to the outside burst open, slamming into the wall. Dewey could just make out the webbed feet and black sailor shirt before Graves spun.

"Get away from my boys!" Donald spat, charging forward and leaping into the startled falcon's chest. The two brothers scrambled out of the way, the bird crashing to the floor with their uncle standing on top of him. Louie had been sent flying, letting out a pained cry as he landed. They were by his side the moment they found their footing, covering him as they waited for the fight to begin.

But it didn't. Instead, they felt gentle hands rest on their heads and quickly turned to see Uncle Donald bending over them. Behind him, Graves lay motionless, a hole in the drywall where the back of his head had connected.

Dewey felt hot tears well up and tumble down his cheeks as he fell forward wrapping his arms around their uncle, realizing the crisis was over. He was aware of Huey doing the same next to him.

"Beakley's got that lot taken care of." Scrooge's voice sounded from the entryway to the living room. "Oh, good! Ye found them."

Dewey heard the shuffle of feet and a low, garbled curse as he suspected his great-uncle passed the downed falcon. There was the light brush of fingers over the feathers on his head before the elder duck's attention moved to Louie.

"Easy, lad." Dewey watched as Scrooge gently rolled his brother onto his back, taking note of his brother's face, eyes tight against the pain induced by the fall. "Can ye tell me what hurts?"

An eyelid peeled back, a tear falling free as he sucked in a shuddering breath. Instead of speaking, his right hand crossed over his chest, touching his left arm with shaking fingers.

Uncle Scrooge nodded, taking the left hand and slowly laying it over Louie's stomach, the right hand holding the arm in place. "Hold this here. It's goin' to hurt, but I'll try to be gentle, alright?"

Dewey watched the hesitant nod, his brother letting out a sob as he was lifted into the older duck's arms. They were out of the cabin and on their way to the closest hospital within minutes, Beakley happy to push the speed limits for the family. He kept his eyes glued to his brother, now sleeping against their great-uncle and felt Donald pull him closer. They were finally safe, but he couldn't relax. Not until they were home.

A hand found his from the other side of their uncle and he turned to see Huey's tired gaze, a gentle smile on his face as he fought the urge to fall asleep. Dewey gave the hand a reassuring squeeze, the burden in his heart lifting slightly. He settled into his uncle's side and let his mind drift, his eyes slowly drooping closed as the drone of the car lulled him to sleep.

OoOoOoO

Epilogue

Louie's arm itched. Really, seriously itched and the movie he was watching did little to distract him from that fact. He let out a frustrated groan, pulling the attention of his brothers and Webby sitting next to him. They offered a sympathetic smile before turning back to the screen.

"Need anything?" Huey had been the first to ask whenever it seemed Louie was in distress. It was his way of keeping his brother safe after he'd come out of surgery with the cast covering his broken arm. Too bad he couldn't actually remove it for another four weeks.

"A hacksaw." He answered dryly before adding, "But I'll settle for another can of Pep."

Huey grinned, shaking his head as he jumped off the couch and headed to the kitchen. Beside him, Dewey grabbed one of the lopsided pillows and gently wedged it back under the cast. That seemed to lessen the twitch, helping him relax further into the cushions. A moment later, the sharp sound of the can opening alerted him to his brother's return, Huey handing him the freshly opened can before climbing back up, wedging himself between Webby and his little brother.

Louie hid a content smile with a sip of the soda, returning his attention to the movie. Even though it had already been a few weeks since their ordeal, he still found his brothers' presence comforting. Even Webby's overwhelming attachment to the trio was welcomed. This was his family and no matter what happened, they would keep each other safe.

Louie wouldn't trade it for all the gold in the world.

OoOoOoO

The movie's menu was playing on repeat when Donald entered the room to find his nephews. He turned off the television before stepping back to regard the group on the couch.

It wasn't necessarily a large sofa, images of his boys sprawled across it popping to the front of his mind. They liked their space, but looking at them now, one wouldn't know it. Dewey had a stack of pillows resting on his lap, propping Louie's scribbled-on cast in as comfortable a position as possible. The youngest duck's head lay on his middle brother's shoulder, both letting out soft snores. Huey was pressed against Louie's right side, a blanket covering them and Webby had curled up next to the eldest, her grappling gun tucked neatly under a pillow.

"Hard to think we almost lost them." The whispered words sounded next to Donald as his uncle entered the room, his cane sending a soft tap on the floor as he stopped to regard the young ducks on the couch.

"It shouldn't have happened." Donald knew this was an old conversation, but he couldn't help the anger and guilt that came with knowing he couldn't protect them. Not all the time, anyway.

For his part, Scrooge didn't bristle at the dig. Instead, he sighed and produced a folded page. "I might've looked into that." Donald took the paper and opened it. Gyro's handwriting was the first thing he noticed, turning his gut slightly. The next, he saw the outline of a capsule, the words 'Subcutaneous Tracking Device' printed over it. "Nothing's functional yet, but I thought the idea warranted some research."

"A lot of research." The younger duck emphasized. The idea seemed to fit his needs, but he didn't like the idea of putting something in his boys if it could cause any kind of harm.

"I'll keep ye updated." Scrooge grinned, all too familiar with his scientist's reputation. "For now, we'll do our best."

The older ducks gave the small pile on the couch one last look before leaving them to their nap, content in the knowledge that they were home and safe.

OooooOOOOooooO

All done! Really hope you all have enjoyed this story! I've grown to love Falcon Graves as a dark villain! He can just be so intensely menacing when I need him to be!

Also, love the boys and how much they care about each other! I want more of that in the show!

Thanks so much to everyone who has left comments and kudos! I really appreciate the support! Hope to continue writing for this fandom!

Love yall!


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